


Atlantis Rising

by Casey_K



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: First Kiss, First Time, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-20
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-16 18:34:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21502348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Casey_K/pseuds/Casey_K
Summary: When Keller finishes with a despondant Ronon, John decides to get to the bottom of it and get them back together. He discovers more than he bargained for and is forced to face the uncomfortable truth.
Relationships: Ronon Dex/John Sheppard
Comments: 23
Kudos: 69





	1. Chapter 1

How was he ever supposed to understand these people when they kept changing the rules? Ronon huffed, went to say something, but then…what was the point?

“I’m sorry.” Keller touched a hand gently to his arm and he pulled back.

“Don’t say that when you don’t mean it. I don’t need your pity.”

“It’s not…” Now she huffed, mirroring his own frustration and he tasted acid in his throat. “I don’t pity you, Ronon. I never have. I thought…” He looked at her, knew too much emotion was overflowing from him, and her words faded. It wasn’t as though there was anything else to say, so he turned on his heel and left.

He didn’t want to go back to his quarters to mope. It would only highlight to him again how alone he was in a city surrounded by people. People who were _other_ , who couldn’t understand the complexities of the heart. The true heart. The Satedan heart. Satedan culture was lost on them. Satedan culture was lost, period. Along with anyone with any capacity to feel deeply, to have the desire to create something bigger than they were. These people looked the same, well, most of them looked a little soft around the edges—Satedans were firm bodied, angular, with deep, soft hearts for family—but at times like this, when it really mattered, these Earthers were so alien it cut Ronon to the bone. 

He passed them in the corridors going about their business, flirting, laughing, talking with gravity, and tried to tune it all out, tried to remember the warmth of his mother’s home, the lightness in the joy of gathering with friends before the war, before everything was gone. But seven years was a long time and those memories had faded, all he could picture now were the ruins of his city and the desolate wasteland with no signs of life. He fought back the urge to punch something, to hammer his fists against the metal walls until they bled, to find something, anything, anyone, who could help him feel alive again. Feel whole. 

And of course, the gods would laugh at him, tease him by placing the one person Ronon knew had a heart as deep as his own, who had the capacity to reach beyond the superficiality of his own people and be elevated to the level of a Satedan warrior--Sheppard. 

“Hey, big guy, what’s with the thunder face? Jennifer bail on you again for some sickly pup?”

“She bailed on me for good this time.” It hurt, looking at him. Telling him. Ronon was sure Sheppard hadn’t liked that Ronon was with Keller, that maybe there was a part of him that had wanted Ronon for himself and Ronon had tried. He’d tried to engage Sheppard that way, in conversation, in sparring, but had come up empty and hurting. 

Sheppard stilled, cocked his head in that way he did when he was trying to understand something. “She…she finished with you?”

“Yes. So, if you don’t mind, I think I’ll go pummel some marines.” Ronon made to walk off. 

“Wait.” 

He sighed, pausing his stride. He really didn’t want to do this. Not here. And certainly not with… “What is there to say, Sheppard? You have too many words that mean nothing and none that hold value.”

“That’s a little harsh. But, hey, come on, what happened?”

“Who knows. Who the hell cares?” And wasn’t that the truth? “I’m too much, not enough. I have no idea. She wants me to share, she doesn’t want me to share _that_ … I’m done with all of you. You people make no sense to me.” And then he walked away leaving an eerie silence in his wake.

SGASGASGASGASGA

John seethed quietly. He hated seeing Ronon so lost and angry. He deserved better, he deserved more. It was none of his business what had gone on between him and Keller, but he was going to damned well make it his business. Nobody messed with his team without him coming down hard on them. No one. 

He made his way to medical, hoping Keller would be there without actually being on shift. Of all the people to screw over. Ronon still found it hard to trust, to let people in, and she’d…well, he didn’t know what she’d done. It was bad enough he’d had to sit back and watch their fledgling little thing get off the ground, but knowing Ronon was finally happy, that he wouldn’t be alone anymore, that was worth the heartache. But to watch it crash and burn and Ronon become even more withdrawn…to think Ronon could actually leave Atlantis all together? Unthinkable. Not going to happen. Whatever it took, however painful it would be to think of Ronon behind closed doors with someone else…he’d do it just to have him here. To know he was safe and happy. And safe. Seven years. How did anyone survive that?  
Medical was quiet. John found Keller in her office sifting through paperwork. “Got a minute?”

She looked up, surprised. No sign of having just broken up with a significant other. “What can I do for you, John?”

“Ronon.” With that one word, her whole demeanour changed. 

“What could you possibly have to say to me about Ronon?”

John opened his mouth to speak but paused as her words sunk in. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Her sigh was heavy. “Never mind. Say what you’re here to say.”

“I’m not…I just wanted to find out what happened, see if you two can’t straighten things out.”

“Right. Of course, you are.”

“Look…”

“No, John, you look. I don’t care what you think you are here to do, but there is nothing to fix, okay? Things were…nothing ever got off the ground, not really, so it’s not as though I’m actually ending anything.”

“You weren’t dating?”

“We were, but he, we didn’t ever…”

“You dumped him because he didn’t put out? The man was completely alone for seven years, Jennifer. You couldn’t give him a little time to get used to the thought of being intimate with you?”

“What? No, god, no, you…” She paused to look at him. Really look at him, and he felt his skin itch as she tried to see beyond what he was willing to share. “You don’t know, do you? God, you come here to lecture me about what I should and shouldn’t do, and you have no idea.”

“Why don’t you enlighten me?” His voice was tight, he knew it, but he didn’t care. He’d had enough of that tome from Nancy in the last days of their marriage to put up with it from a colleague.

“I don’t want to be a Lifeline Lover, John. Do you understand that at least?”

“I…no, I don’t”

“You don’t understand that isn’t enough, or you don’t understand what it is?”

“Both, I guess.”

“Then you need to speak to Ronon. Satedan culture is rich and complex. They feel deeply.” She waved her arm in the air. “And not enough. There is no point us continuing this conversation if you don’t understand the concepts that led to my decision. Hell, we shouldn’t be having this conversation anyway. It would be bad enough for anyone to call me on my decision, but you…you have no right given the circumstances.”

“ _What_ circumstances?”

“Ask Ronon. Ask him about how Satedans categorise love, and lovers. Then come and tell me I made the wrong choice.” She turned back to her paperwork, leaving John staring at the back of her head. 

He was numb around the edges as he wandered the corridor towards the gym. _Ask him about how Satedans categorise love, and lovers._ What the hell did that mean? But that wasn’t really the issue. John could occasionally be honest with himself about the deep shit that haunted him in the night. It wasn’t that he didn’t know what it meant. He was more concerned he knew exactly what it meant, and in that case, did he really want Ronon to explain it to him. Because the one thing he knew for sure, was that he couldn’t lose Ronon. Wouldn’t want to be the cause of him leaving Atlantis and going it alone. Again. For all his steadfast, immovable bluster, the man was a big bucket of goo. Feelings that ran so deep most people failed to see them at all. But John saw them, oh yes, John saw them, felt them, mirrored them, and that’s why Keller had been…necessary.

He rounded the corner to the sparring room to find Ronon slumped against the wall alone. “Where is everyone? I was expecting to see blood on the floor.”

“Yeah, well, they took one look at me and all headed for the showers.”

John sat next to Ronon, shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip, and felt the shudder run through both their bodies at the proximity. “So,” John said carefully. “You want to talk to me about Lifeline Lovers?”

Ronon snorted a laugh. “You actually went to see her, didn’t you?” He shook his head. “I don’t get you, Sheppard. Why would you try to fix it?”

“Forget about that for now. I want to hear from you. Tell me about Sateda, Ronon. Talk me about how your people love.” 

“How we love? Are you sure you want to know, because I’ve had one person bail on me already after sharing this.”

“Yeah, well, there’s nothing to bail on, is there. We’re friends, Ronon. I want to understand more of what’s going on for you. So I can be there for you. You don’t have to go through everything alone, and despite what you may think of us as a people, some of us can understand big feelings.”

“I don’t doubt you understand them, John. It’s what you choose to do with them that baffles me.”

John instinctively pressed closer to Ronon at the use of his given name. He was pretty sure it was the first time he’d heard Ronon say it, and it felt good hearing it in that deep, rounded timbre of Ronon’s voice. “Lifeline Lovers, Ronon?”

Ronon sighed, deep and sad. “On Sateda we knew how to love completely. We would give of ourselves. Our lives, our hopes, dreams, our every breath would be for our True Love. When you find your Truest Love, Sheppard, nothing and no one else matters. Do you understand that?”

“Yes, I do.” There was a pause, a fraction too long as Ronon took in a shuddery breath. “Melina was your Truest Love?”

Ronon nodded. “It’s not like on Earth, not transitory like your marriage, it’s for life.” Ronon picked at a bead in his hair. “I’ve heard your people talk about soul mates, and I guess it’s similar except, in death…let’s just say if your lifetime is longer than your lover’s you don’t wither away waiting to join them in the afterlife. In a universe with Wraith, life is for living while you have it.”

“So, you have Lifeline Lovers, for when your Truest Love is gone?”

“Yes. And no.” Ronon straightened his legs and rubbed strong hands over his thighs. He was nervous. Why would he be nervous? “In our culture we had four kinds of lovers. Your Truest Lover was your first choice, your everything.” More deep breathing, and now John was nervous. “When your Truest Love wasn’t… When they died, or weren’t interested in you…”

“Wait, not interested in you?”

“You must realise some love is unrequited, John? You could have a deep, lasting love for someone who barely knows you exist in that way,” he met John’s gaze.  
“Would you pine away for them, or get on with your life in the best way you know how?”

“OK?”

“In that situation, you would take up with a Lifeline. They will never be your all, or your everything, but they keep you grounded and functioning, they give you focus and purpose.”

“But they aren’t _the one._ ”

“Exactly. From what I see of your people, this is the most common love you have. It is the love people expect in life. It is often transitory for you, but for Satedans it would still be lasting. We love one person at a time. We share our bodies with one lover at a time.” Ronon quirked a smile. “Most of the time, unless there is a mutual need to… Anyway,” he shifted where he sat, and the warmth of his body made itself known in John’s.

“And the other kinds of lovers?”

Ronon looked at John again, deep and searching. “Battle Lovers. As it sounds. In the heat of war, when everything is shot to shit, as you would say, when you aren’t at home in towns and communities but stranded on battle fields far from home… then there are Battle Lovers. You keep each other strong, focused, determined to love another day and bring the war to and end. You love to distraction, rid the body of tension making it free to fight, and fight, and fight. But is exists only in war. There is no place for it in a home. In a township.”

John picked at imaginary lint on his BDU’s. “Is that what we would be?” His words were so quiet he barely heard them over the thump of his heart. 

“What did you say?” 

“And the last type of lover?” John asked, ignoring the fact he’d voiced his deepest fears, that Ronon would see him only as means to release tension in the midst of battle.

Ronon narrowed his gaze for a moment but then continued. “Day Lovers. Akin to your people’s one-night-stand. Very rare with Satedans, but in the absence of any of the others if too much time passes.”

“Too much time?”

“Not like your people, who need to fuck every week or so. But if years pass and you are yet to find a Lifeline, well, it is healthy to maintain some kind of connection to love, to the pleasures of the body.”

“Right.” Day Lovers. Since Nancy, and before Nancy, that had been all John had known. And now, whether he cared to admit it or not, he was faced with the truest of True Loves there could ever be in his world, but it was unrequited. Ronon may only think of Keller as a Lifeline, but in the absence of Melina what else was he to do? Keller should be happy to have Ronon’s commitment to a life together. “And you told Jennifer she was a Lifeline?”

“She isn’t. Yet.” Ronon shifted to face John. “You realise we aren’t lovers, right? We have never been…together.”

“But you thought she may become a Lifeline?”

“Yes.” Ronon sighed deeply and the sound tore at John’s insides. “That is what we discussed when she ended things. And I don’t understand, Sheppard, because that’s all you people ever seem to search for. When somebody is looking for a soul mate, a deeper connection, you people, you make fun of them, call them dreamers. I thought she would understand what I was offering.”

“I don’t think she does understand.” John pushed himself to his feet. “I’ll talk to her. Help her to see what you…”

“That’s what you want?” Ronon’s voice was edged with anger. “After everything I’ve just told you, you would want to see me with Keller?”

“What I want, Ronon, is to see you happy.”

“Happy?”

“Yes. Focused, grounded. Isn’t that what you said you thought you could build with her? That’s what I want for you.” John could see Ronon grinding his teeth, but he said nothing, so John left him as he’d found him and headed back to the medical bay.

“I don’t want to hear what you think about it,” Keller said as John tapped on the door frame to her office. 

“You told me to come back when I understood. Now I do, and you’re making a mistake.”

She spun around, all fire and fury. “I’m making a mistake? How dare you stand there and say that to me.”

“Jennifer, he’s offering you a lifetime commitment. What more can you ask of him?”

The anger drained and her eyes narrowed. “Oh, my god. You still don’t get it, do you?”

“Sure, I do. You want to be his Truest Love, but he knows he can only offer you his life and his love, not his heart and soul.” Why couldn’t she understand that? It was simple even to John, and he wasn’t exactly great with the emotional stuff.

“John, it’s one thing to be second fiddle to a dead wife, most of us can live with that. But I’m sorry, I’m not going to build a life with a man knowing his heart and soul belongs to someone he sees every day. I’m not strong enough for that, and quite frankly, it’s completely inappropriate for you to expect or even ask that of me. And for what reason, your own hang ups?”

John sighed. “You’ve lost me again.”

“Of course, I have. Because you are both completely oblivious, and utterly ridiculous. _You_ , John, are Ronon’s Truest Love. He belongs to _you_. We could build a life together, and possibly learn to be happy, but it wouldn’t change the fact he loves you. He wants to be with you. His heart and soul, as you said, are with you and always will be.” John stared, mouth open. “If you want to find someone to blame for Ronon’s loneliness, look in the mirror. Now, please, leave me alone.” She didn’t wait for him to leave and instead brushed past him disappearing from sight. Her words echoed around his head. _You, John, are Ronon’s Truest Love._ No. it couldn’t be. It wasn’t possible. 

But it was possible. It was so possible, John wanted to kick himself for refusing to see it sooner. Refused to see it because there wasn’t a damn thing in this universe or the next, he could do about it without being court-martialled and given a one-way ticket back to Earth. Anger welled up in him at the realisation that outdated military protocol was shafting them both, and Ronon hadn’t even signed up to it. At least John had known. He knew before he finished college his tastes ran easy in both directions, but he’d wanted a career in the military, so he’d squashed half of himself, silenced it. And it had worked just fine until Ronon crashed into his life. There was only one thing for it. He needed a drink. A real goddamned drink in a real goddamned bar.


	2. Chapter 2

The Gate room was quiet. “Dial Midway,” John said to Jazelyn at the controls. 

“But we don’t have any scheduled…”

“Just do it.”

“Yes, Sir.” She dialled the Midway station and Shepard waited for the ripples to settle before walking though the gate and allowing his body to be torn into atoms. 

At Midway, John looked to the control desk. “What can I do for you, Colonel?” John didn’t recognise the guy, and he didn’t really care who it was anyway. 

“Dial Earth. I have a few hours R&R and I have something I need to do back home.”

“Uh, I’m not sure…”

“It’s an order,” John said, raising his voice. 

“I get that, but I can’t let you go back to Earth wearing the Atlantis Insignia.” The guy pointed to John’s sleeve.

“Damn it.” He hadn’t even noticed. Was so used to wearing the uniform, even on his days off. He stripped off his shirt and flung it to the ground leaving him in just a black tee. “Satisfied?” At least there were no further arguments and the Gate sprang to life. He was going to be in so much trouble for leaving Atlantis without telling Wolsey, but he just didn’t have the strength left in him to care.

This time when he stepped out of the Gate, there was a buzz of activity. “Colonel Shepard, is there a problem?” General Landry looked down his nose at John’s lack of uniform. 

“No, sir. I, uh…I have a couple of hours and I…”

“You’ve wasted serious military resource for an afternoon jolly?”

Anger flared deep in John’s stomach. “I haven’t taken a holiday in almost five years, General. I think the least you can do is give me access to a decent bar to get drunk when the need arises.”

“I see.” General Landry gave him an appraising look. “I trust Wolsey knows of your departure?”

“Absolutely.” _Not. But I don’t give a damn._

“In that case,” Landry looked around. “You, Lt. Mendez, escort Colonel Shepard to the nearest bar and wait for him to…do whatever it is he’s here to do.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“And for goodness sake get him a jacket. It’s Winter, Colonel, you’re going to freeze to death out there.”

A couple of hours later, John was feeling warm and fuzzy but emptier than ever. The knowledge that Ronon was a whole galaxy away hurt like a bitch and his vision was going cloudy around the edges. John looked around. “Mendez,” he said, waving at the soldier waiting patiently by the door. “Mendez, come here.” He watched the young guy wander over. “What do think about it all? I mean, it’s not right is it, not really?”

“I have no idea what you mean, Colonel.”

“No, no, I mean, why would you, I bet the girls go crazy for you right?”

Mendez quirked a smile. “I do okay, I guess.”

“And men, do you do okay with the boys too? I bet you do, you look the type.” To John’s surprise, Mendez laughed.

“I see some action now and then. I hope that’s not a proposition though Colonel, that really wouldn’t be appropriate in your condition, or with me on duty.”

“Right, right. Wait…you wouldn’t mind?”

“Well, it’s not as though we have DADT to worry about anymore. It’s still not common place, but there are a number of personnel in same sex relationships these days.”

“There are?” John’s head span and he grabbed the bar to stop him slipping off his stool. Mendez grabbed him to stop the slide and straightened him up. 

“Guess you’ve been out of range a while, huh?”

“You could say that.”

“DADT was repealed more than six months ago, Sir. You can love who you want in the military nowadays.”

“I can? I mean I do anyway, they can’t take it from you even when they say it’s not allowed, but I didn’t know…I didn’t know I could, you know.”

“Oh, right. Well. You can. I mean lots of guys always did, you know?”

“But…” John slumped into Mendez’s shoulder. “I’m a virgin, Mendez,” he whispered. “He’s not going to want a blushing virgin, is he? Not one as old as me.” John realised his face was wet. God, he was crying. Could he be anymore pathetic?

“Okay, I think it’s time to get you back to base, and back to wherever in the universe you’re supposed to be.”

“Not even in this one,” John whispered again. “But don’t say I told you.”

“Right.” Mendez hooked John’s arm over his shoulder. “Time to pay your tab.”

John patted his back pocket, then slapped his hand to his forehead. “Shoot. I didn’t…I forgot to bring my wallet. The excursion wasn’t exactly planned, and I don’t need US dollars where I’m stationed, if you know what I mean. I’ll pay you back,” he said, going for a smile. “I could pay you back in kind, maybe?”

Mendez plopped him back on the stool and dug out his wallet. He threw some money on the bar then lifted John again and half dragged, half carried him back to the jeep. 

“So, you want a blowjob or something?” 

“Colonel. You need to save it for whoever you’re on your way back to. And for the record, being a guy’s first is hot.”

“It is?”

“It really, really is. And you’re not old. You’re actually kind of perfect, if I’m honest. If you weren’t so wasted, I would not be saying no.”

John grinned. He still had it, even when he was shit-faced. “Good to know.” 

“You should close your eyes and sleep it off for the drive back to base. Gate travel is no fun drunk.”

“Good idea.” John settled into the seat and pulled the jacket he’d borrowed around him. No DADT to worry about. Just him and Ronon. And a bed. A bed would definitely be necessary. And nakedness. Lots and lots of nakedness for as long as they both shall live. 

“Are you sure you’re up to this, Colonel?” John looked at Landry through the one eye he could keep open without feeling dizzy.

“I’ll be fine. It’s no different to going through with a concussion.”

“Okay, then.”

John attempted a salute before ambling through the gate. He regretted the advice not to wait a few more hours immediately his stomach was ripped from his body and his head shoved metaphorically up his ass. He lurched into Midway, staggered a few paces and collapsed. He was sure he saw Ronon’s face swim into view just as his vision blacked out.

John could hear rumbling dulled voices. His throat was parched, and his brain felt like it was trying to escape through his eye sockets. “How long have I been out?” he managed to say without bothering to open his eyes or sit up.

“An hour or so.” Ronon’s deep base sounded good even with the rumba going on between his ears. “You’re an idiot.”

“So it seems.”

“What the hell were you thinking?”

“I kind of wasn’t. Or rather I was thinking too much and needed to find the antidote.”

“What happened to not bailing on me?”

That got John’s attention, and he opened his eyes to search out Ronon’s face. “I didn’t bail on you. Is that what you think?”

“You were gone.” His face was blank, but his eyes couldn’t hide the hurt. Hurt John had put there. “Not just from Atlantis. You left for another universe, John. What the hell am I supposed to think?”

John forced himself to sit up. Whoever Ronon had been talking to when he’d first come around had disappeared and they were alone. “You’re supposed to realise I was conflicted because I love you.”

“Conflicted? How much did you drink?” The bitter edge to Ronon’s voice broke John’s heart. 

“I’m serious, Ronon. I had to get away to think about what you’d said. Keller said…Jennifer thought…thinks you’re in love with me, like True Love in love.” Ronon looked at his boots but gave nothing away. “I was…angry.” Ronon’s gaze snapped up. “That we could both love each other that way but not be allowed to be together because of stupid military rules.”

Silent standoff. They were both wary, and John hated it. Hated they were trying to hide from each other. 

“Is there a but?” Ronon said, eventually.

John reached out and took Ronon’s hand. “I realised I don’t give a flying fuck about Earth rules.” He tugged at Ronon’s hand, bringing him closer to the bed, and lifting Ronon’s hand to kiss his fingers. “And then I found out it didn’t matter anymore anyway because those rules are now obsolete.”

“You say so much without actually saying anything.” Ronon was hovering dangerously close to John, tendrils of hope seeping out of him, and John reached up to cup his face. 

“I love you, Ronon. I want to be with you. What more do I need to say?” and he pulled Ronon down into their first kiss. Soft, gentle, and god damned perfect. Something clicked into place inside John’s chest that he hadn’t known for sure had been missing. 

When Ronon pulled away his gaze stayed with John’s. “You really mean that?” There was a hint of playfulness around the corners of his eyes and John relaxed a fraction. “Because I’m Satedan, John. I don’t do that transitory, maybe a decade crap you Earthers seem to go for. I’m all or nothing.”

John smiled. “Well, I can’t say you’re still going to feel that way in a decade when I’m old and chubby.”

“Growing old together is a gift from the gods themselves in this universe, John. It’s not something anyone takes lightly.”

The sound of his name on Ronon’s lips was too good, and it stirred things deep in places he’d kept hidden for too long. It made him brave. Brave enough to say the things he normally never could. “I can’t ever imagine a time when I won’t want to be with you, Chewy. A decade is nowhere near long enough. I’m not even sure a lifetime will do it.”

Ronon kissed him again. Slow and easy, like they had forever. “Get some rest because you’re going to need it later.” He quirked a smile.

“About that.” Ronon raised an eyebrow. “I, uh…” John wanted to crawl away and hide. The room was suddenly hot and lacking air, his brow prickled with sweat. “I’ve kind of never…you know, with a guy before.”

“We have the rest of our lives, John. We don’t have to everything today.”

“Oh, we do. I’ve waited too long to take a chance you’ll change your mind.”

“Not going to happen.” Ronon brushed the pad of his thumb over John’s jawline and John shuddered. “Ever. And I may have a little more experience. Not much, I admit,” he shrugged, “but it’s still been almost ten years for me John, with anyone.”

“Wow, that is…Mendez was right, that is so hot.”

“Who the hell is Mendez?” The jealous growl made John smile. 

“Someone who helped me see what was right. I didn’t touch him, I swear. From now on, I’ll never touch another.”

“That’s more like it.” Ronon kissed him again, the lightest touch of lips, and turned to leave. 

“Ronon?” He turned back, and his smile blinded John momentarily. “Why were you at Midway?”

Ronon grimaced. “Wolsey sent me to wait for you.”

“Ugh, is he pissed?”

“Worse. He’s disappointed. Upset you’d leave Atlantis without talking to him. He was wearing his kicked puppy face.”

“Oh, god.” John cringed at the thought of having to explain the situation to anyone, let alone Wolsey. The man looked ready to burst into tears if someone farted wrong. “I’d rather have a new one ripped by Landry than deal with a disappointed suit. Is that who you were talking to earlier?”

Ronon nodded. “He said for you to call in when you’re feeling up to it. He was all understanding and shit.”

“Crap. Well, that’s going to be never.” Ronon chuffed a laugh before turning to leave. “Where are you going?”

“To make preparations.” John blushed. “For us to move into shared quarters, John. We’ll need a large bed, more space.”

“A bigger bed will definitely be a good idea.” He pushed back the covers, but Ronon held up a hand to pause him. “I want to help.”

“You’re seriously dehydrated.” Ronon motioned to the drip John hadn’t consciously noticed he was attached to. “You need to rest. I’ll come back for you when everything is ready. To take you home.” 

“Home?”

“To our home.” He watched Ronon leave with what was almost a spring in his step and John lay back in the bed and closed his eyes. Wolsey was a bit of a thorn in his side but the rest of it? He shuddered at the memory of Ronon’s lips on his. Oh, yeah, the rest of it he could definitely get used to. He may think twice before going through the gate drunk again, but a few hours in medical at the other end…all worth it to be able to call somewhere home. Someone home. Truest Love. Soul mate. Ronon.


	3. Chapter 3

Ronon had been gifted with so many riches in his life. Sure, people looked at him and saw loss and desolation, and yeah, he felt that loss deep in his bones every hour of every day, but it didn’t take away the good memories. He’d had a full life before the war kicked up a notch. Friends, family, a career. It was funny, really, nobody here, no one who knew him now considered him as anything other than a warrior, some caveman soldier. But he’d had a life outside the military. He’d had friends, family, nieces and nephews he taught to hunt and fight. He had hobbies and interests that extended beyond killing Wraith. He liked to cook, to craft with wood and leather, to build homes for his friends, and he loved to write, to play music, to travel his world from the highest mountain peaks to the deepest lakes and valleys. John saw that side of him even if he didn’t know the detail. John had always been able to see through the tough outer skin to the soft underbelly of Ronon’s being. That’s how Ronon knew John was worthy of his heart. That’s how Ronon knew he was ready to build a new life, a new home, a new family.   
He looked around the room, the largest of the collection of rooms he would now share with John. It was sparse, but comfortable. A blank slate for them to grow into together. The walls were warmer here in the family designated area of the city. He could hear the echo of children’s laughter in these halls, unlike the cold functional area of the city taken up by military personnel. The allocation of such a large unit had been a gift in itself. Unnecessary, but Wolsey had insisted. John was the Military Commander, he’d said, and as such should be rewarded for his commitment to Atlantis. He’d also talked about setting a good example, putting down roots, moving on from single, transitory quarters to something that showed everyone in the city things here were permanent. Wolsey had talked at length, as he often did about anything and everything, about wanting to make Atlantis more homely, to encourage its new inhabitants to think of it less as an expedition, and more like a lifelong colony. Ronon had listened. For once Wolsey’s ramblings spoke to something deep inside him that longed for those days gone by of late-night laughter and family gatherings, of celebration, and passion, and a life full of promise. 

Sateda had been one of the few largely industrial planets in the galaxy. The people had refused to allow the threat of Wraith culling to dampen their spirit, their creativity, their drive for a better world. From what he had seen of Earth, their communities had been similar. Sure, Sateda was smaller, with a population less than a single country in John’s world, but they functioned in a similar way with technology, hospitals, even holidays. Things Teila’s people had never known. Would possibly never know. 

He walked through to the bedroom for one last look before collecting John from medical. The large bed was dressed with crisp white sheets and a handful of colourful blankets he’d collected during trading missions to various worlds. He hadn’t wanted to pack up John’s room for him, but he had brought the book from his nightstand and his alarm clock, a collection of music cd’s with the player, a handful of John’s favourite films, and some clothes. The stage was set. His heart hammered in his chest thinking of what would unfold here later that evening. He’d stocked their private kitchen with ready prepared food from the mess, beer, some wine, which Ronon preferred and John always teased him about. It wasn’t quite a home yet, but there was promise. Promise of a future together, a promise to each other that they would finally allow themselves to explore, to map each other’s bodies, to find heights and depths of pleasure at each other’s hands. 

Ronon shook himself out. Pressed a firm hand against the thickening length in his pants and closed his eyes briefly. It had been a long time. Too long. If John hadn’t been one of the first Lantean’s Ronon had met, he’d have been tempted to find a Day Lover or two to tide him over, to remind him of how good his body could feel in the hands of another. But something in John had called to Ronon that very first day. Something in the casual way he’d dealt with being held captive, the way he’d fought for his team, worried for his fallen comrade addicted to the Wraith enzyme, the way he’d bartered for Ronon’s freedom without even knowing him because it was the right thing to do. John may be from Earth, but he had a Satedan heart. Ronon had taken time to watch, to catalogue, and finally to accept that John was worth a lifetime of waiting. He’d thought he’d lost him along the way, caught up in rules and obligations Ronon didn’t understand and he’d allowed John to push him towards Keller. His heart had never been in it, and she knew. She knew with the very first kiss Ronon would never be hers. He needed to thank her for being strong enough to stand up for what she deserved. What they both deserved. Without that, without her calling time, refusing to ignore the obvious…well, it wasn’t worth thinking about. Time to go collect his prise. 

John’s legs were shaky as they left the transporter. “Where are we, exactly?”

“North citadel. We have a great view of the city from the balcony.”

“We have a balcony?”

“A big one. And several rooms. Our own kitchen. Do you cook?”

“Can’t say that I do.” He slowed to a stop, whether it was anxiety or adrenaline, he couldn’t tell. 

“What is it?”

“Ronon, you have to know I want this, but isn’t this all happening a bit fast?”

“I don’t understand.”

“Yesterday we were skipping around each other, and you were dating someone else. Now we’re moving in together?”

Ronon edged closer, all endless patience and understanding, and John wanted to punch him. “This is one of those Earth things, isn’t it? What did McKay call it…fear of commitment?”

“I’m not afraid to…when did you speak to Rodney?” John huffed. “It doesn’t matter, that’s not it.” Not all of it, anyway. It was part of it, John could occasionally be honest with himself. “But, hell, we haven’t even had sex yet. What if we don’t like it?” Ronon laughed. Actually laughed. And John wanted to punch him again. “Yeah, ha ha. I don’t know what to do, Ronon.” He hated how silly it sounded, but it was the truth, and it worried him. He couldn’t afford to mess this up. Not with Ronon. Not with the one person he didn’t doubt he loved with every ounce of himself. “I don’t know how to be with you. And I don’t just mean in bed.” He sighed. There was so much he wanted to say but he didn’t know where to start. If he should even try. “I’ve been married before, remember. It was a disaster. I don’t,” John felt a tide of emotion welling up. “I don’t want us to ever be like that. I don’t ever want to be like that, not with you, Chewy. I can’t…”

“Hey, hey…” Ronon wrapped John up in strong arms and nuzzled into his neck. “We can take this a day at a time, John.”

“But it’s not a day at a time, is it? This is like a huge deal for you, and I want that, I do, I just don’t know how to…not mess it up.”

Ronon stepped back, his expression considered. “I think you’re looking at this the wrong way.”

“I’m listening.”

“There is nothing to mess up.” Ronon ran a finger over John’s cheek and smiled. “It’s a done deal as far as I’m concerned. Non-negotiable. Like being born Satedan. You can’t mess it up. You can’t do something stupid one day and you’re not Satedan anymore.”

John thought about that for a moment. He’d done plenty of stupid things in his life, would any of them have risked the complicated mess of feeling and emotion he had for Ronon? No. so why had it fallen apart with Nancy? Because she didn’t know him, didn’t want to know him, expected things he didn’t have the capacity to give. Had Ronon ever done that, ever hinted at any of that? No. “Okay, I can work with that, I guess. But it doesn’t change the fact I don’t know how to…” he waved his arms in Ronon’s direction, “make you feel good.”

Ronon stepped in close, pressing John lightly against the wall, breathing into his neck. “Sure you do, John.” He took hold of John’s hand and placed it on his own hip before dragging it over his crotch, down to his thigh and back. John shuddered feeling the bulge in Ronon’s pants, and his heart thumped a little faster. “You’ve had lovers before, John. You know how to make a lover feel good, how to read their body. From what I’ve heard of your reputation, you have always been very...thorough, an accomplished lover.”

“Who told you that?” 

Ronon smirked. “And you have a cock of your own, so I know you know what feels good when you touch and stroke one.”

“That is true.” A very fat, heavy, trapped cock, that was more than a little interested in every breath, every touch of Ronon’s hands. 

“So what are you worried about?”

“I don’t want to disappoint you. I…” 

“Not going to happen.” Ronon kissed along his jaw to the corner of his mouth. “Not even possible.” And he dived in for a deep, dirty kiss, full of teeth and tongue, and John couldn’t hold back the whimper, or the automatic reflex of his hands over Ronon’s body, a hand in his hair pulling him down, and one on his ass, pulling him closer. Ronon chuckled against him. “I don’t think we’re going to have a problem, do you?”

“No,” John grinned despite himself and his nerves, “definitely not.” 

“So, can we go home now? There is a very nice meal, and a very large bed waiting for us.”

John felt himself flush, his face burning with anticipation and just a hint of embarrassment. “Do we have to take it in that order?”

“We can take it anyway you want to, John. Anyway at all.”


	4. Chapter 4

John felt as though he’d found the best drug in the universe. This one and his own. Sex with Ronon…sex with someone who knew you, the real you, who wanted to be only for you…it was life changing. Revolutionary. Empowering. Exhausting. 

Woolsey had given them three days off work, and they were hiding out in their new home discovering each other. It was a revelation and it was also terrifying. Terrifying by how quickly everything had fallen into place as though it had always been. Casual touches, once forbidden that John hadn’t realised he’d been holding back, now just happened naturally. He’d never done that. Never wanted to. It had driven Nancy crazy, that he wouldn’t hold hands or put an arm around her in public. PDA had passed him by but now his body knew Ronon’s he couldn’t stop making that physical connection, even if it was only sitting thigh to thigh and shoulder to shoulder to watch a film. And he was worried. He was worried it would happen when they left the comfort and safety of their new home, that he would still reach out to touch when they were working, when they were off world, and he didn’t know how to deal with that, how to process whether it was appropriate, even whether he wanted to share what they had with the rest of the world. There was no fragility to it, but it still felt…private, and he didn’t want to inadvertently splash it around and somehow dilute its power and intensity, its specialness. And then that made him feel stupid. 

Ronon was just Ronon, taking everything in his stride. All long lean muscle lounging around and smiling when he caught John looking at him. The hands John had only known as weapons were surprisingly gentle and yet firm when dishing out pleasure John had never known was possible. He looked at Ronon’s hands in a new way now. In naughty, delicious ways that made his head spin. Those long slender fingers that played his body, reached into places that, well… How was he supposed to concentrate at work when he saw those hands? Or the way leather pants hugged Ronon’s ass when John knew how that ass looked eager and ready for his cock, knowing how Ronon sounded when he came, or the look on his face, the tension in his shoulders just before release. Yup, John was never going to be able to go back to work. He was going to have to resign as Military Commander and beg a job as a cleaner. 

“You’re doing it again.” John startled out of his daydream to find Ronon grinning at him. “You wander. Where were you?”

“Wondering how not to fondle your ass when we’re out on missions or think about your cock in my mouth when we’re negotiating trade deals.”

“Ah…” Ronon’s smile was glorious, and it warmed John’s heart to know he’d put it there. That he’d unwrapped parts of Ronon nobody had seen in a very long time. “It’ll be OK,” Ronon said. “I think we should brave the mess hall today. We go back to work tomorrow, and we’ve been very insular the last few days. Then you’ll see it won’t be a problem.”

“What if I don’t want to share you yet?”

“You don’t ever have to share me, John.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Is that really it, or are you worried about people knowing?” Ronon tilted his head a fraction to get a read on John’s reaction. 

John knew what he was asking. They hadn’t talked about it yet. About DADT. About how John had always known he liked men but had hidden it. Ignored it. “I’m not going to pretend it’s going to be easy for me. Years of Military conditioning, of hiding this side of myself isn’t going to be undone overnight. It’s unlikely I’ll ever be out and proud, but I’m not embarrassed or ashamed of this.” 

“I know,” Ronon said. “But I also understand there are some odd stigmas attached to same sex couples for Earthers. It’s one of the things that highlights how alien your people are. That, and all the casual sex you people have.”

“There was really no problem with it on Sateda?”

“It’s one of the strangest things I see in your culture.” Ronon stretched out, and John couldn’t help follow the shape of his bicep as it curled back behind his head as a pillow against the wall. “The idea, the thought of love being confined, dictated, or wrong in certain circumstances, it just didn’t exist so it’s odd to hear phrases like ‘free to love who you want’ because why would that ever be in question?” Ronon sat up straighter on the sofa where he’d been lounging, uncurling said bicep and placing his hands in his lap. “I’ve had the distinct feeling that your people are surprised that ‘such a warrior class’ as Satedans,” he used air parentheses to get across his point and it made John smile, “would entertain same sex relationships but I don’t know what they are implying with the comment because why wouldn’t we?”

“Hang on, are you telling me someone has actually said that to you?”

“Not to my face. I heard them say it as I walked out of the kitchens on one of the food runs.”

“And you didn’t say anything, you didn’t report it or confront them?”

Ronon shrugged. “Why would I? I just thought it was odd. Like advertising their own ignorance of the concept of True Love, of any love other than that dictated by your authorities on Earth.”

“Well…”

“And Pansy,” Ronon continued. “What is a Pansy, anyway?” 

John felt sick. “Someone called you a Pansy?”

“I heard one of the scientists say he was surprised I would turn out to be a Pansy. Is that a bad thing? Should I be tracking him down and thumping him?”

John sighed. “A Pansy is just a flower. An Earth flower. But he was using it as a derogatory term to insinuate you are effeminate. Although Pansies are actually quite hardy flowers.”

“I still don’t understand.” And John finally realised that Ronon really didn’t, because if he did…if he actually understood what the men had been saying, well, he’d have ripped their heads off for even thinking it. “What is effeminate?”

“Like a woman, feminine.”

“And that is bad in your culture, for a man to be like a woman? Does that not imply that a woman is somehow less?”

John felt unsteady. It was dangerous territory and he didn’t know how conditioned he still was with ridiculous prejudices he would never understand. All he could hear was Nancy complaining about male privilege and how he’d never know what it was like to be a woman. “You’re right. We are an alien culture. We have outdated cultural values that shape the way we view each other based on gender.” John thought for a moment about how best to explain at least a little of what was going on. “On Sateda were there roles that were taken on by women, and others that were predominantly for men?”

Ronon’s brow crinkled as he thought and John wanted to smooth it out with his finger, and then his tongue. He was merrily following his fantasy when Ronon’s words brought him back to focus. “Women were the only ones who could carry children, obviously. Other than that, there was nothing assigned specifically to gender. What kind of roles do you mean?” Ronon looked perplexed. “Wait, are you saying the reason so few of the marines are women is because your culture dictates the role of a warrior is more for men?”

He looked so horrified John wanted to laugh. “Well, yeah, I guess. The Military has always been predominately men. Historically, women tend to the home and men go out to fight and hunt. Not all the time, or in all cultures, but in my country that is still quite often the case.”

Ronon shook his head. “Makes no sense to me. I see that some of your women are smaller, look kind of fragile, but then so do some of the men here. Satedan women are…were…like me, you, Teyla. Unless…well, we did protect women on Sateda because of their ability to birth children. If a woman wanted to have a family her status was elevated and she was looked after, I guess, in order that we would continue to grow and thrive as a community through Wraith culling. But that ability to birth a child, to go through that process, the pain, the sacrifice…how could that ever be seen as _less_ than anything a man is capable of? It’s easy to kill, but to give the gift of new life? To birth a whole new person you’ve grown inside you…”

“Well, it’s kind of the other way around on Earth. Birthing children, getting pregnant, having to take time out of a career to have babies is kind of seen as a weakness on Earth. And that’s before you even get into the whole unwanted pregnancy thing.”

“Unwanted? How…oh, it’s all the casual sex I suppose.” Ronon crinkled his brow again. “But surely life is always a gift and if you didn’t want children wouldn’t you ensure it didn’t happen? I mean, your medical technology is quite advanced isn’t it? Surely you can prevent women from falling pregnant if they are not planning a family.”

“It sounds easy when you say it like that, but we’re a complicated lot on Earth. I’ll take you there for our next R&R, you can spend some time observing. I think it will change the way you see the people here.”

“Are they different, somehow?”

“Uh, yeah. I mean, I know they represent many countries, but they are all…” John didn’t know how to express geeks or nerds. And that was predominantly what the people on the Atlantis expedition were--geeks and military. There were so many more groups and cultures on Earth he couldn’t even think what to say. Where did you start with dictators, drug lords, oligarchs, the many indigenous peoples who could never be represented on an expedition like Atlantis, or slave traders—though there were slavers in Pegasus—or emos, goths, and bikers, bankers and politicians…just too much to explain. Ronon would have to see it to believe it anyway. “Let’s just say they are not a representative cross section of the peoples of Earth. Not even a fraction.”

“It still doesn’t explain your weird hang ups about love and sex, or men and women.”

“No, it doesn’t. I don’t think anything can.”

“But if I hear someone call me a Pansy, I should thump them, right?”

“Maybe not. Just, uh, just figure out who it is and let me know. I’ll deal with it in a more official way.”

“You have an official way to…”

“Just tell me, and I’ll sort it.” John sat astride Ronon’s thighs and nestled into Ronon’s palms as Ronon cupped his ass. “In the meantime, I think we should regroup before facing the world.”

“Again, already?”

“Just one more time…and then we’ll search out some food together.” And he leaned in to devour Ronon’s smile in a kiss, fingers threading through his dreads to hold him still, so John could forget for a little while longer the obligations waiting for him outside their little bubble of perfect.


	5. Chapter 5

“Where the hell have you been?” Rodney was a complete blend of frustration and worry. “Days I’ve been searching for you. Nobody would tell me anything.”

“Hello, Rodney.” John turned to face him. He hadn’t even made it to the mess hall but given the look on Rodney’s face it was probably lucky the conversation could be contained in semi-private.

“One minute I hear you’re gone from Atlantis, then you’re in the infirmary. By the time I got there you were gone again. I even went to Woolsey and he said you were taking a few days off, but you weren’t in your room.”

“Okay, slow down, Rodney. I’m here now, and I’m back to work tomorrow.”

“I looked for you.” The hurt on his face tore at Sheppard.

“I have been taking time off.”

“Are you sick? I went to your room, John. And it looks like you’ve moved out. I finagled the lock when you wouldn’t answer and had a poke around in there.”

“You broke into my place?”

“Oh, don’t look so scandalised. You aren’t even living there anymore, and what was I supposed to do, I was worried. Man mountain over there has been avoiding me, Teyla was pleading the fifth even though I'm not sure she even knows what that means, and you weren’t even on comms.” Rodney stopped to take a breath. “What’s going on?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t fill you in before now, but things have been a little…crazy.”

“So, you’re okay?”

“I’m okay. More than okay, actually. And yes, before you ask, I’ve moved quarters. We’re…” he turned to Ronon, “Where are we again?”

Before Ronon could answer, Rodney chimed in. “He got to move as well? Why didn’t I get offered a new room? Are they bigger, do you have a view? How did you manage that?”

“Look, some things have changed, and circumstances have led to…” but he ran out of words. Rodney was still mumbling about not being considered for larger quarters and he couldn’t, he just couldn’t say it. Why couldn’t he tell Rodney he was living with Ronon? Failing at the first hurdle. He wanted to slink away, no, he wanted to bolt. And then he felt Ronon step in close, strong hand at the small of his back and the fear drained out of him. “We moved together.”

Rodney stopped his grumblings and looked up. “What?”

“Ronon and I moved together. To a bigger place. Together,” he added again.

“So, what, you’re roommates now? Why didn’t you ask me? You know I hate that box they gave me.”

Ronon leaned past John’s shoulder and spoke directly into Rodney’s ear. “Because he isn’t fucking you, McKay.”

“He’s not what now?” And then the penny dropped, and the colour drained out of Rodney’s face, followed by confusion, followed by a mottled ruddy glow that really didn’t look good. John braced himself. It would hurt, if it turned out Rodney was against this, but they would deal with it. They would deal with it, and John would find a new friend. “You’re living together, together? Since when? And I’m sorry, but how is that even possible? Less than a week ago, _he_ ,” Rodney jabbed into the air at Ronon, “was dating Jennifer, and now you’re telling me you _live_ together?”

“I know it all seems a bit fast…”

“Fast? You think?”

“Rodney, will you stop?” He did, and just stared. He didn’t understand. How could he? John didn’t understand it himself. But he knew it was right. “We love each other, Rodney. And I know that probably sounds unlikely given that Ronon was with someone else, but the truth is we’ve loved each other for a long time. It just took something drastic to make me…well, let’s just say…”

“I’m not stupid, John. You two have been dancing around each other ever since he arrived. I just thought, you know, you would have said something. To me at least. I’m your friend, John. You’re my best friend.”

“Yeah, well, it turns out I am stupid, and I didn’t realise. What this was.” He waved a hand between him and Ronon. “But now I do, and we’re together.”

“Right.” Rodney straightened out his jacket. “Well, are you going to be having a housewarming then? When do I get to see the new place?” They started walking along the hall towards the mess. “Are there anymore rooms along there I could move into or is it families only? You aren’t going to get married, are you? I hate weddings. I’m always the one left at the table without a dance partner.” 

John patted Rodney on the shoulder, allowing the relief to settle into his bones. One down, the rest of Atlantis to go. “No plans to get married just yet, Rodney.” And just like that it was all okay.


	6. Chapter 6

Except it wasn’t okay. Not even a little bit. The mess hall was busy with long-lunchers gossiping and wasting time. The hush that settled as John, Ronon, and Rodney joined what was left of the queue for food was palpable.

“Ignore it,” Ronon said quietly, aware as always of John’s thoughts before he’d fully processed them himself. Rodney, oblivious to the more subtle social context in the room, carried on with his own conversation, and it struck John how very pleasant living in Rodney’s world must be. 

John did his best to follow Ronon’s advice, and the chatter did start up again, though he had the feeling much of it was now about him. And Ronon. And no doubt, the surprise of pansies in Atlantis. 

Having settled at a table on the very edge of the room—a tactic Ronon always preferred—there were the occasional waves, and acknowledgements from military and past conquests. John wondered whether Ronon really did know his reputation and how many of those ladies were waiting for round number two, or three, or ten. But then of course he did. Ronon wouldn’t have mentioned it otherwise. That was the thing with being able to blend into the furniture, disguise your existence, you got to hear things. Like women discussing John’s bedroom talk, or that Satedans shouldn’t be pansies. 

Rodney’s fork clattered to his plate. “What is it with you? I’m speeding talking here, and you’ve barely taken in a word. I know I may not be riveting company compared to the regular entertainment you now have on tap, but…” His face contorted. “Ow…what was that for?”

“Shut up, McKay,” Ronon growled, and Rodney huffed. 

“You don’t own him, you know. I’m still entitled to…”

John placed a hand on the table to get Rodney’s attention. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Well, yes, haven’t I been trying to engage you in words?”

“You said you didn’t know where I was. What was going on?” Rodney’s brow creased. “Just now. You said nobody would tell you anything.”

“Yeah, well, it turns out I don’t hold as much sway as I thought I did around here. It’s very frustrating.”

“But didn’t you hear people talking?”

“About what?”

Ronon stroked a firm hand along John’s thigh. “I’m not sure this is the best idea.”

“Actually, I’d like to know.”

Rodney huffed. “Know what?” 

“Rodney, I know you don’t always understand the…subtle undertones of…”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t rub it in.”

“But people knew, Rodney. About me. Ronon. About us being together. And, granted, they may not have known where our new rooms are…”

“You have more than one room?”

“It’s more of an apartment, really.”

“Well, I’ll be…”

“Focus, Rodney. What I’m saying is, Ronon here, was subjected to a few, admittedly tame slurs about the nature of our relationship.” Still weird, being in a relationship, but at least he’d got the word out this time. “I’m just wondering how you didn’t…know.”

“Really?” Rodney looked genuinely mystified. “I can’t imagine anyone taunting Ronon, let alone about something so…personal. Besides, what I would have heard about is the bloodshed that resulted.”

“Yeah, well, when you come from a planet that doesn’t have weird hang up’s like we do, you don’t always recognise what someone is saying to you. Or about you.”

“Okay, I have no idea where this conversation is going, or what exactly it is you’re asking me. If you’re suggesting I’ve heard people gossiping or making homophobic comments about this new thing of yours, then you’re wrong. But then people are probably sensible enough,” he raised his voice a little and twisted to address the mess hall at large, “to keep their outdated prejudices, or inappropriate humour to themselves when I’m around, because it will be reported, and it will incur a one-way ticket off this base.”

“Okay, okay, there’s no need for that.”

“You don’t have a problem with people having a problem? We’re supposed to be creating a forward-thinking outpost for humanity here, not some back-water hick house where ‘the old ways are the best’. It’s ridiculous.”

Ronon snorted. “Says the man who flipped out when there was no jello for a month.” 

“That,” Rodney brandished his fork in Ronon’s direction, “is different. What were they saying anyway? And who was stupid enough to get caught even thinking it. I can imagine Woolsey being really firm about something like that. It really would be a one-way ticket.”

“Just some of the scientists.” John squeezed Ronon’s knee. “They called Ronon a pansy.”

Rodney’s spoon clattered to the table this time. He twisted in his seat. “Really, a pansy?” he asked the room. “Ronon, of all people. Your military commander, who’s saved your asses more times than I care to remember, and that’s the thanks he gets?”

“Rodney…” The hush in the room was stifling. 

“No, it’s insulting to think I have to work with these people. They’ll be insinuating Teyla isn’t suitable for duty next, or that we shouldn’t have female marines, hell, they may as well just send all the women home right now and chain them to the kitchen sink.”

“I think you’ve made your point.”

“I hope so, because discriminatory language is not acceptable at any level on this base.” Rodney leaned across the table. “I’m not discriminatory, am I?” he said in a lowered voice.

“Not really,” John said. “I mean, you think everyone else is beneath you, but I think that’s classed as something else.”

“Right, that’s okay then. You’d tell me though, right, if I was?”

“Sure.”

Rodney straightened again. “So that,” he said to the room, “is going to be the last of any kind of nonsense. We are in a different galaxy, people. It’s time to embrace a new mindset and stop living in the 1950’s.”

“1950’s?” Ronon’s brow creased again. “Is that code for something?”

“It’s code for discriminatory thinking and being afraid of anything that’s remotely different.” Rodney stabbed his fork into his food. “If people want to cling to that they should go back to earth.”

“It’s an era in our history,” John added. “You, know, a calendar decade.”

“Oh, I know. Rock and Roll, Elvis, Buddy Holly, Marilyn Monroe.” 

“How do you know about Marilyn Monroe?” 

“Lorne. He likes Rock and Roll. Always going on about the 50’s. I didn’t put it together straight away. I like Buddy Holly’s music.”

“Well, aren’t you full of surprises,” Rodney said around a mouthful of potatoes. “So when’s the house warming? Should we bring gifts?”

“Whoa, slow down. I never said anything about a housewarming.”

“Why not? Just me, and Teyla. Lorne maybe.”

“It’s a good idea,” Ronon said. “I can prepare some food. Isn’t that what friends do? What life outside war is supposed to be?”

John searched for something, anything against the idea, but Ronon was right. On earth, that’s exactly what they would do. On Sateda too. “Okay. We’ll look at the schedule and see when we have the next day off.”

“Great,” Rodney said. “I’ll get Teyla to come to the market with me. Any particular colour scheme you have going on?”

Ronon smiled, genuine, beautiful. It took John a moment to tune back into the conversation.

“Neutrals it is then.” Rodney stood, taking his tray. “I’ll drop by later if it’s okay. Just to have a look around.” Ronon nodded, and they watched Rodney leave. 

“You sure about this?” John asked. 

“It’ll be nice to do something normal. We’re building a life, right?”

“Yes, we are.” And John leaned in to place a chaste kiss to Ronon’s lips.


End file.
